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Authors: Michele Kimbrough
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He followed her down the hall, admiring the way her long stride swayed her hips. Instead of her usual floral scent, a cool fresh fragrance trailed her.
She pushed through the kitchen door and led him to the massive den. “Can I get you something to drink?” She bit down on her bottom lip, her ankles crossed as she stood, looking as if she’d spin into a pirouette at any moment.
“No.” He looked around, taking in his environment. He was uncomfortable standing in Adam’s home, thinking about all the things he wanted to do with his wife. It was reckless, too, them being there together—Hill could feel the tension in the air. Suppose Adam came home unexpectedly? What if Adam had cameras hidden in the house, which was something Hill imagined Adam would do? Then what?
She pushed her hair away from her face with one practiced sweep of her hand. “You can sit if you’d like.”
She noticed how far away from her he sat—deliberately. The rugged scent of his body drew her nearer to him. She scooted closer and closer until she could feel his breath against her skin.
“You can touch me,” she said, gazing into eyes that seemed surprised at her boldness. She reached for his hand and pressed it against her heart. A fierce possessiveness came over him, and he grabbed hold of her, his fingers caressing, stroking, and taunting her. There was nothing more exquisite than the feel of his hands caressing her body. And Hill’s touch was warm and inviting. It was a sensation like no other. Her body pleaded silently for him to take her—here and now. But he pulled back, releasing her from the warmth of his touch.
“I’m not going to break,” she said as she stood in front of him, unbuttoning her sleeveless shirtdress to unveil full, plump breasts. She ran her hands over his smooth, chiseled chest and gazed into his eyes. His hands explored her body from her neck down to her hips. His lips pressed tenderly against her bare shoulder.
“I want you, Hill.” She let the dress drop to the floor as she reached for his hand and pressed it against her breasts. Her gaze pleaded for him to consume her—and she hoped with all hope that he could see her burning desire.
“I know it’s wrong . . . I know you shouldn’t be here. But I. . .” she began.
Before she could say anything else, Hill glided his thumb along Caitlin’s bottom lip, her mouth opening to his touch. He pulled her body tightly to his and kissed her with a craving that made her muscles clench. Heat rushed down her spine in waves. His rugged scent was intoxicating. She grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head closer, pressing hard against his mouth, sucking his lips, his tongue, his earlobe, his neck with such urgent desperation she could hardly catch her breath.
Nothing in that moment existed except the two of them. Their intensity grew. Their passion was all-encompassing. Their breath and their heartbeats synched. Warm quivers raced through her body as quiet moans of desire escaped her. She pressed her hands against his chest, her fingers roaming along his hard, chiseled muscle.
“What are we doing?” she asked.
“Waiting for you to tell me to stop,” he answered, caressing her ear. He pressed his mouth softly against hers. Their tongues plunged and receded, teasing and taunting each other.
Caitlin leaned into his touch. “Don’t. . .” she said, as he kissed her neck and shoulder. “Stop.”
He pulled back, attempting to arrest his arousal, but it was much too late. He was too far gone, and his desire for her was hot, heavy, and pulsing with need.
She ran her hands down his muscular arms, his veins protruding as if he’d just worked out. “Why’d you stop? Don’t you want me?” she asked, looking up at him with an innocent gaze.
“You asked me to stop.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You said,
don’t
. And then you said,
stop
. Sounded to me like a big fat ‘
no
’.”
She chuckled. “Sorry, I was trying to catch my breath. I
She pushed through the kitchen door and led him to the massive den. “Can I get you something to drink?” She bit down on her bottom lip, her ankles crossed as she stood, looking as if she’d spin into a pirouette at any moment.
“No.” He looked around, taking in his environment. He was uncomfortable standing in Adam’s home, thinking about all the things he wanted to do with his wife. It was reckless, too, them being there together—Hill could feel the tension in the air. Suppose Adam came home unexpectedly? What if Adam had cameras hidden in the house, which was something Hill imagined Adam would do? Then what?
She pushed her hair away from her face with one practiced sweep of her hand. “You can sit if you’d like.”
She noticed how far away from her he sat—deliberately. The rugged scent of his body drew her nearer to him. She scooted closer and closer until she could feel his breath against her skin.
“You can touch me,” she said, gazing into eyes that seemed surprised at her boldness. She reached for his hand and pressed it against her heart. A fierce possessiveness came over him, and he grabbed hold of her, his fingers caressing, stroking, and taunting her. There was nothing more exquisite than the feel of his hands caressing her body. And Hill’s touch was warm and inviting. It was a sensation like no other. Her body pleaded silently for him to take her—here and now. But he pulled back, releasing her from the warmth of his touch.
“I’m not going to break,” she said as she stood in front of him, unbuttoning her sleeveless shirtdress to unveil full, plump breasts. She ran her hands over his smooth, chiseled chest and gazed into his eyes. His hands explored her body from her neck down to her hips. His lips pressed tenderly against her bare shoulder.
“I want you, Hill.” She let the dress drop to the floor as she reached for his hand and pressed it against her breasts. Her gaze pleaded for him to consume her—and she hoped with all hope that he could see her burning desire.
“I know it’s wrong . . . I know you shouldn’t be here. But I. . .” she began.
Before she could say anything else, Hill glided his thumb along Caitlin’s bottom lip, her mouth opening to his touch. He pulled her body tightly to his and kissed her with a craving that made her muscles clench. Heat rushed down her spine in waves. His rugged scent was intoxicating. She grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head closer, pressing hard against his mouth, sucking his lips, his tongue, his earlobe, his neck with such urgent desperation she could hardly catch her breath.
Nothing in that moment existed except the two of them. Their intensity grew. Their passion was all-encompassing. Their breath and their heartbeats synched. Warm quivers raced through her body as quiet moans of desire escaped her. She pressed her hands against his chest, her fingers roaming along his hard, chiseled muscle.
“What are we doing?” she asked.
“Waiting for you to tell me to stop,” he answered, caressing her ear. He pressed his mouth softly against hers. Their tongues plunged and receded, teasing and taunting each other.
Caitlin leaned into his touch. “Don’t. . .” she said, as he kissed her neck and shoulder. “Stop.”
He pulled back, attempting to arrest his arousal, but it was much too late. He was too far gone, and his desire for her was hot, heavy, and pulsing with need.
She ran her hands down his muscular arms, his veins protruding as if he’d just worked out. “Why’d you stop? Don’t you want me?” she asked, looking up at him with an innocent gaze.
“You asked me to stop.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You said,
don’t
. And then you said,
stop
. Sounded to me like a big fat ‘
no
’.”
She chuckled. “Sorry, I was trying to catch my breath. I
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